


Transpose Onto Me Your Feelings

by legendofthefireemblem



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Airports, Chance Meetings, Covid19-Typical Mask Wearing, M/M, Post-2020 F1 Season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28241466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendofthefireemblem/pseuds/legendofthefireemblem
Summary: Airports are normally full of people coming and going. This year is different. Daniil is different.Missing a flight isn’t the kind of different he likes. Then again, this whole year has been full of disliked differents. What’s one more to the list?
Relationships: Daniil Kvyat/Jolyon Palmer
Comments: 12
Kudos: 10
Collections: F1 Soup Kitchen Secret Santa 2020





	Transpose Onto Me Your Feelings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [toro (sapoeysap)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapoeysap/gifts).



> To Bryce,  
> This was a challenge to do, but I hope I managed to meet it adequately. I tried to put in some stuff that I hope you like despite its shorter length. Merry Christmas!

The airport is always busy during the holidays. It’s a testament to the overall insanity of this year that the airport, instead, is far emptier than Daniil’s ever seen it. The tinny Christmas music can barely be heard from the speakers, leaving his fingers itching to pick up the guitar that’s waiting for him at home. He had planned to record a video or two of them for Pierre, who had not so subtly asked for them. _'Like the video, but with a Santa hat instead of the socks.'_

The realization that he’s lost his seat and his plane is not lost on him when he arrives. The massive crush of passengers who’ve suffered alongside him are all eager to run along the hallways - either in futile attempts to still make their boarding or to beat the other remaining passengers to customer service. He follows the signs to the flight desk and not even two minutes later walks out with a ticket for the next flight. 

It’s in three hours. Daniil supposes it could be worse, if flights had dragged out to be even more infrequent or if they were instead filled to the brim with passengers. He’s got time to kill. His boarding gate isn’t announced and won’t be for at least an hour. So he settles for exploring the endless hallways, scouting for comfortable seats to hunker down in.

There’s a small café tempting him with the smell of coffee and baked goods. He ignores it for instead sitting across on a wooden bench, pulling out War and Peace from his backpack. It’s a heavy carry, but now he’s ever more grateful that he brought it along. Something to pass the time.

He's going to have a lot more of that from now on. Time. It stretches out in front of him with its uncertainty; days, weeks, months, years. What will he do with all of it?

The airport lights flicker and suddenly he's falling. Everything slips away. The world will swallow him up, just as it has countless other drivers.

The lights come back on.

Daniil glances at the café before turning to his book. The weight is comforting in his hands. He’s so absorbed in the feeling of flipping the pages as he reads that he barely notices when someone sits next to him.

“Dany?”

The face of Jolyon Palmer stares at him, expression unreadable thanks to the mask that covers half his face.

“Jolyon.” There’s a strange desire to reach out in greeting, some sort of handshake or awkward hug. It manifests in an awkward page flip, nearly causing him to lose his spot. They settle for a nod of acknowledgement. For a moment, Daniil wonders if that’ll be it.

“What a coincidence, isn’t it?” Jolyon looks towards the window, at the runway full of planes.

“Yeah.” Daniil pauses. “My first flight was late, so I missed my transfer.”

Jolyon nods enthusiastically, more interested in his story than Daniil himself is. “I’m just waiting for my flight, we should be boarding in half an hour. How long are you stuck here for?”

Daniil stares at his copy of War and Peace. He earmarks the current page and places it down next to him, in the space between him and Jolyon. “Three hours.”

“Wow, that’s a doozy. I’ve only got about half an hour to go.” Jolyon pauses. “How does it feel?” There’s no context to the question, but they both know what it means.

“I’m absolutely gutted.” Replies Daniil. He watches as Jolyon’s eyes crinkle at his deadpan response, slightly amused.

“So, 2022?”

Daniil shakes his head. “If the pattern plays out, yeah.”

There’s no words of assurance or sympathy from Jolyon. Not like he expected there to be some. Instead, there’s just the silence and understanding. Their presence in the sport was always precarious, waiting for a thread to finally be cut.

Even then, he still can’t place the blame on anyone. He had his chance, and it was taken away from him time and time again. Why should this time be any different?

“You want a coffee?” Jolyon’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

“Sure.” Daniil is thrown off by the sudden question. The numbness of his thoughts makes the warm coffee placed in his hands a few minutes later seem all the more hot.

They sit. Jolyon asks him his honest opinion of next year’s prospects. Daniil gives him a reply that leaves him choking on the scalding coffee.

“We should do this again.” The last call for Jolyon’s flight breaks through the tinny Christmas music. “When it’s all over and there aren’t any masks or restrictions.”

“Get a coffee?” Daniil knows that’s not what Jolyon means, but he can’t help but ask.

“Go on a date.” Jolyon leans in. Daniil stares at him. Jolyon pauses, his breath audible through the mask. “I’ll save that for the second date.”

“Good idea.”

Daniil watches Jolyon wave as he leaves, picking up War and Peace again. A peaceful feeling washes over him. He knows what he’s going to do now with his time.


End file.
